Battle South Park
by silverfox.611
Summary: A fatal accident affects the whole town leaving South Park residents to fight for their lives until help arrives. Who will live? Who will die? Who will fall in love? Sorry, I'm not so good at summaries! Rated M because I intend to be as violent and as smutty as I want! LOTS of pairings: Kyman, Creek, Bunny, Stendy...and MOAR! Just be patient with me on this one PLEASE! :)
1. Countdown

**A/N: Ok. So, I'm not abandoning my other stories BUT I had this idea suddenly, and well, I just had to go with it! The updates on this one may take a little while, but that's because I'm doing other stories and I want to make sure I do my best on everything!**

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**Chapter 1: Countdown**

The Marsh House

Friday September 6

11:42 PM

It was dark out now. The sun had set hours ago. Streetlights hummed along the empty streets. The soft yellow glow of the lights illuminated the tiny suburban houses, ready for the night with locked doors and drawn blinds. On normal nights, most South Park residents were already in bed.

But this wasn't a normal night.

The TV flickered in the family room of the Marsh house. The news reporter cut in and out through static. "Damn piece of crap!" cursed Randy Marsh as he smacked the TV.

Sharon Marsh and Shelly Marsh were together on the sofa. Sharon held her daughter tight, yet Shelly was still trembling. If Stan had been looking, he would have seen the tears silently rolling down their faces. But Stan stood at the window, pulling back the curtain to peer out over the desolate streets.

Black strands of hair fell over his ice blue eyes but Stan made no effort to brush them away. He studied the world before him. A harsh quiet had fallen over the entire town – no wind, no birds, no stars in the sky. He searched for the right word. _Eerie, _he mumbled under his breath, _that's the word_.

_This is a South Park News Update_

_The Governor has declared that South Park will be quarantined until further notice, saying "Well, there's nothing else we can do."_

"That's bullshit!"

"Quiet, Randy! We're trying to hear!"

"What, Sharon! That's totally bullshit!"

_Scientists want to assure South Park residents that they are working on a solution. Quote, "Hang in there South Park. We're working as fast as we can." _

Stan continued to stare into the darkness. Still no birds. No squirrels either.

….._emergency supplies such as first aid kits. Scientists advise that it is very important to keep a flashlight on you at all times. We repeat, supplies will not be air dropped in for several days._

Stan's pocket buzzed and he pulled out his phone to check it.

_Dude my parents r freaking out. How r things by u? – Kyle_

Numbly Stan replied_ Same_ and let his phone drop back into his jeans. He thought of his friend in his living room. A similar reflection of his own. Family huddled around the TV – plus Eric Cartman who was currently staying with the Broflovski's. He could see it….Sheila, quiet for once….Gerald, eyes dark with analysis….Kyle and Ike together on the couch…Little Ike, only 13 years old, his small body wrapped around his brother's arm, brown eyes lost in thought, black hair dishelved…

…._make sure to boil any water. And above all, South Park residents are urged to stay calm. No matter what happens. Stay calm._

The sirens began to sound. Screaming across the night. Climbing louder and louder, breaking the silence with its unnatural tone. Stan shivered. He had always thought those sirens were the most terrifying sound he'd ever heard.


	2. Brothers In Arms

**A/N: Thank you for reading and thank you for the reviews! Please enjoy this next Chapter & let me know what you think! I promise, I will reveal everything in time. :D**

**PS: I've drawn up a map for anyone who would like to use it as a reference throughout this story! The link is on my profile!**

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**Chapter 2: Brothers In Arms**

Tweek Bros. Coffee

Monday September 9

7:35 am

Slowly he opened his eyes noting that it seemed more difficult than usual. His body felt cramped and a dull ache pounded through his head. He had been having a terrifying nightmare; something about the town being quarantined and possibly a chemical weapons outbreak. A familiar rush of anxiety began to strangle him as he began to remember. _Oh Jesus! Oh God! We're all going to_ – And just that quickly those thoughts vanished as Tweek Tweak realized that Craig Tucker was wrapped tightly around him. Even though Craig was taller and a few months older than the Tweak boy, he was curled around the twitchy blonde like a small child. Craig had grown to be one of the tallest boys in their class. He was about the same height as Stan Marsh. But both boys were still two inches shorten than Eric Cartman, who surprisingly had grown to be the tallest boy in their senior class._ Class_, Tweek thought back painfully to a few days before when going to class had been so important. Back when homework and grades mattered. Back when life was normal.

Carefully, Tweek buried his face in Craig's jet-black hair. He breathed in the comforting smell of him, mixed with dirt and blood from the last few days. He was so warm. So much warmer than Tweek, who was usually cold – something he often worried about. He listened to Craig's steady breathing. So calm. Just like the rest of Craig. He shifted slightly to wrap an arm around Craig, and felt Craig's dick, hard and pressing against his own stiffening erection. Instantly, he felt his face flush. Panicked, Tweek flung himself back, forgetting that he really had nowhere to go. He hit his head on the wall behind him, causing a large can of coffee beans to spill overhead. Craig, now awake and covered in coffee beans, stared at a mortified Tweek.

"I-I-I-I'm, Oh man, I-ngh-'m sorry C-Craig," Tweek trembled, "I-I forgot where I was! I-I didn't mean – agh!"

Craig was not a morning person. And with the combination of very little food and very little sleep, Craig was even less so. "Shut up Tweek. I don't fucking care."

Tweek flattened himself against the wall, so that his body was as far from Craig's as possible in the cramped supply closet of his late father's coffee shop. He fought back the tears that were burning at his eyelids. Tweek tried to remind himself that Craig was tired and hungry and not himself. Still, one tear managed to escape down his cheek, searing hot, leaving clean line down his blood stained cheek.

Thankfully Craig didn't notice. He was too busy fighting the awkward, limited space of the closet as he attempted to dig his cell phone out of his backpack.

"Got it," he muttered to himself. He opened the last text he received, re-reading it a loud for the eighth time in two days: "Meet us at the high school – Eric". That was all. No other messages and no reply to the message he had sent Cartman. Sighing, he turned off the phone again. He looked over at Tweek. They had made the decision last night to meet up with Cartman and who ever else at the high school. His mind drifted back to the conversation.

_"We can't stay here anymore. It's not safe," Craig had stated._

_"H-How can we – ngh – trust Eric?" Tweek yelped._

_"We don't have any choice."_

_"C-Craig, I have watch t-the shop. My parents said…" Tweek trailed off. His voice was quiet and far away, strangled through tears. Craig placed a hand on Tweek's shoulder while his friend sobbed. When he was through, he lifted his head and fixed his eyes on Craig's – bright blue meeting with light gray. In that moment, Craig experienced a weird feeling. A tightness in his chest that he felt sometimes around Tweek. And he felt it now as Tweek looked at him that way, like he trusted Craig completely, like Craig meant so much to him. "Let's go," Tweek agreed. Craig nodded, "Ok. Tomorrow morning."_

Now morning had come and here they were, exhausted, starved and desperate. _At least we have each other_, thought Craig with a small, internal smile. "Ready Tweek?" Tweek gave a quick nod. With a deep breath, Craig pushed open the supply closet door.


	3. Aftermath

**A/N: Thank you for your patience with my slow writing LOL! And a giant thank you to everyone who has reviewed/followed/favorited! It means a lot :D Here is Chapter 3! You'll get a little more insight into the situation. Warning – it gets a little gory toward the end...Enjoy and please R&R :D**

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**Chapter 3: Aftermath**

The Marsh House

Sunday September 8

1:08 am

"Stan?" Ike whispered, "Stan!" His footsteps echoed against the tile. Pausing, he called out again, daring to raise his voice a little louder this time.

No one called back.

He started walking forward again, trying hard to keep his weapon steady in front of him. An aluminum baseball bat: it was the best weapon Cartman was willing to spare him.

_"Here," Cartman barked, thrusting the aluminum bat into Ike's small hands._

_"You're not sending us with just a bat, fatass!" yelled Kyle._

_"It's either that or he goes empty handed Kyle! And I'm not sending __**you**__! I'm sending __**him**__! __**You**__ are coming with __**me**__. And __**we**__ are going to the __**school**__. We __**need**__ everything else. You're lucky I'm wasting a good resource on such a stupid errand."_

_"It's not a stupid errand Cartman! We need to make sure Stan's ok! We all heard the gunshots!" screamed Kyle, "And I __**am**__ going."_

_Cartman grabbed Kyle by the shoulders and pinned him up against the wall. He was now eye level with Eric and Kyle's feet hung above the ground, showing off their height difference. "You __**are**__ going with me," Eric growled. His brown eyes flashed with intense rage. Never one to back down, Kyle's emerald eyes glittered back with defiance._

_A shiver ran down Ike's spine. "It's ok Kyle. I'll go," piped Ike. Both boys turned to look at him – Cartman looked pleased and Kyle was frozen with shock. Nervously looking between both, he continued, "Eric has a good plan. Our only plan. And our only chance at surviving. But it's Eric. The most evil, dishonest asshole in the whole town. And if you're not there, making sure he's not fucking us over, then we're all dead."_

In then end, Kyle begrudgingly followed Eric, leaving Ike with explicit instructions to get Stan and come straight to the school. Ike had rolled his eyes, earning a burst of laughter from Cartman.

But the light metal bat felt heavy and awkward to Ike now. His breath, short and ragged, shown silver in the night air. The cold pierced through his hoodie and he suddenly regretted not grabbing a coat.

He made his way into further into the kitchen. He had made sure to go through the back door. Going in through the backyard meant he hadn't needed to cross any of the other houses on the street.

Surveying the room, Ike spied the open windows above the sink. Wind, cold but soft, filled the room. Ike's fingers twitched, icy and aching with tension. Maybe he should have grabbed gloves too. Random drawers were open. Their contents ransacked. The fridge was open too. Spaghetti was smeared down the shelves, milk spilled out onto the floor, bits of other leftovers stained the kitchen – some mashed with footprints. That's when he saw it. A trail of blood, like a red river, stretched across the floor. Leading Ike into the next room.

He was shivered violently but not from cold this time. He would be lying if he said that he wasn't afraid. But this was Stan. And Stan needed him. His mind flashed back to his brother and Cartman and he wondered where they were now – if they were safe. Silently, he wished to himself that he could see them now beside him. He could really use Kyle by his side right now. Unlike Ike, his brother's bravery was fueled by his temper. The angrier Kyle became, the more fearless he became. And Ike sure could use that right about now.

Cautiously, he crept through the kitchen into the living room. The TV flickered – nothing but static. The room was in complete disarray. There had definitely been fight here. A broken family picture caught Ike's eye. He carefully picked it up. There they were, the entire Marsh family looking so happy together. All smiles. Well, all except Stan. He had been having some emotional problems for years. Ike knew him to be a very sensitive boy. Well, everyone did. It wasn't a secret. But, whatever it was that was deeply troubling him, he hadn't been able to express it to anyone ever. Not even to Kyle. Kyle was closer to Stan than anyone. Even his own little brother, Ike thought ruefully. So, Stan buried himself in sports. He was naturally athletic, practically born captain of the football team. Stan had gotten a full scholarship to a nearby college. A college he claimed to really want to get in to. Yet, nothing seemed to make him happy.

Suddenly, Ike heard a noise, nearly dropping the picture. He felt his heart shoot up into his throat. He listened, nerves on fire and heart pounding, but heard nothing else. Thoughtlessly, he folded the picture and tucked it into his back pocket. With a gulp, he gathered the courage he didn't have and headed up the stairs – the direction of the noise.

Barely breathing, he made his way up the stairs. The carpet was wet with blood in some areas. Ike prayed it wasn't Stan's.

He paused at the top of the stairs. There was only a long hallway in front of him. From memory he knew Stan's bedroom was the last door on the right. There would be three other rooms to clear first. And who knows what was waiting inside? Stan? Something else? Not that there was even a guarantee that Stan would be in his room! Ike pushed away those thoughts. He needed to focus. There was only one thing to do, only one way to go – and that was forward.

So, with a deep breath, he readied his bat and edged closer to the door of, if he remembered correctly, the bathroom.

Firmly prodding the slightly opened door with the tip of his bat, it swung open with an eerie creak, it swung open. Ike stumbled back at what he saw. The sight was like a punch to his gut. And the smell -

Shelly – what had been Shelly – was draped over the sink and floor. Her head rested on a hinge…spine protruding amongst jagged flesh as blood oozed down the counter. A leg shot out at an unnatural angle, torn and bleeding, and Ike could see through to her muscles. He clamped a hand tight over his mouth. Now was not the time to freak out. Now was not the time to vomit everywhere. He closed his eyes, resolving Stan couldn't be in the bathroom and moved on down the hall.

Part way through checking the next room, he heard another noise. Ike froze where he stood. His blood ran called as he listened. Again he heard it. His name – _his name_ – being called from down the hall in _Stan's_ voice. He was sure of it. And he was sure which room it was coming from.

Concern for his friend won out over fear and Ike moved as silently as possible toward Stan's bedroom. Prodding it with the bat, it was apparent that the door was stuck. Forcing it open with all the strength he gained from he years as a hockey player, Ike wearily entered the room. It was very dark, save for a small amount of moonlight leaking in past the window curtain. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and that's when he saw him, Stan Marsh, splayed on the floor. A bottle of whiskey curled tightly in his left hand. Rushing to his side, Ike propped up the injured boy against the wall. His right arm was wounded and bleeding badly. Ike quickly took off his shirt, tearing it into bandages to wrap Stan's wound. He was very pale and his eyes were unfocused. With a labored breath he called out again, "Ike."

"Stan, I'm here," Ike quipped, focusing on bandaging. But Stan's body shuddered violently, and Ike realized that Stan's gaze had become fixed on the ceiling and was muttering something under his breath. Panicking, Ike cried out, "Stan, stay with me. Stan!" He leaned closer to hear what Stan was muttering.

"I wish you were real" he mumbled over and over.

_"I am real!" Ike stated, "Come on Stan! I'm real! I'm here with you! Stay with me!" _

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**Oooo...I wonder what will happen next? ;P**


	4. Zero Hour

**A/N: Chap 4, finished finally! :D I appreciate everyone's patience. I'm recovering from pneumonia...so, yeah LOL. Please let me know what you think! Thanks! & Enjoy :D**

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**Chapter 4: Zero Hour**

Saturday September 7

2:34 am

The Broflovski House

Ike sat at his desk, focused on the screen his laptop. The small light of his desk lamp cast a shadow over his form, highlighting his current frazzled state. His hair was a mess, like little black horns poking out at strange angles. His hands shook as they flew over the keys. He really needed sleep. Sirens continued to scream overhead. Wearing on his nerves. He was still awake – unlike the rest of his family.

Well, the rest of his family _and Eric_.

_Or not_, he thought, looking up from his computer as his bedroom door swung open. With an irritated sigh, Ike glared at Eric, who was now standing in his pjs in Ike's room.

_Doesn't he knock?_

Eric Cartman had unexpectedly arrived just around dinner, only several hours ago, announcing that he would be staying here with Ike's family. And he was an unwelcome guest as far as Ike (and Kyle) was concerned. As a kid, Eric had been short and incredibly fat. But when he turned sixteen, seemingly over night, that all changed. His height seemed to double and now, at eighteen, he had grown to be one of the tallest boy at South Park High and definitely the tallest in his close circle of friends – even taller than Stan: South Park High's star athlete. All of the extra weight he had had a kid seemed to redistribute itself – in an appealing way. Not that Ike found him appealing (_Hell NO!_) But it was easy to see why most of the girls had begun throwing themselves at him. _Those poor girls_, thought Ike. Because it was also well known that Cartman wasn't interested – in anyone. Cartman never flirted, never asked anyone, girl or guy, to a party or dance. He never mentioned anyone. Not even a celebrity crush. Mostly, everyone agreed that he loved himself too much to love anyone else.

Not that any of these changes mattered...

"What do you want fatass?" Ike spat.

…Because everyone still insulted his weight.

Cartman waved his insult away. "We need to talk."

Irritated and impatient to continue his search for information online, Ike turned back to the screen.

He did not like anyone in his room, especially when he was busy trying to form a plan. Not to mention that he resented Cartman's presence here in the first place.

"With all of South Park on lockdown," Cartman pressed on, "I thought I'd consult with the other smartest kid South Park."

Ike raised an eyebrow. "Go fuck yourself Cartman," he snorted.

He was not in the mood to humor whatever self-serving scheme Cartman had come up with. He wasn't even supposed to be here! Why didn't he stay at his own house….

"I have a plan," Eric pressed on, hesitantly biting his lip like a hopeful child, "And I need you."

Narrowing his eyes, Ike stared into the other boy. He never fell for Cartman's "innocent" act. Coldly, he replied, "And why should I care?"

"Because my plan is going to save everyone's ass, that's why!"

Ike could hear the anger in Cartman's voice. _Fucking brat_, he thought.

Ike laughed, "You don't care about anyone else but yourself."

Eric's face turned dark red. He wore a painful expression, his lips pressed tight together like he was biting back a fairly insulting reply.

"Well, maybe I do this time," he hissed through his teeth.

_Of all the places, he had to stay here_…Ike thought again. He couldn't shake it. Just how weird it was that out of **everywhere**, Eric Cartman chose to stay at the house of his worst frenemy.

_Actually, why stay anywhere?_ he wondered. It's not as if Liane hadn't left Eric home alone before.

Not waiting for Ike's reply, Eric continued on. Ike wasn't really listening though. A thought had just occurred to him.

"….and it's been roughly nine hours since the chemical weapons spill –" Eric droned on.

"Wait, chemical weapons spill?"

"Finally got your attention? Yeah, chemical weapons leak. That has infected our whole town. You know. The entire reason we're cut off from everything, " Eric sneered, "you mean Ike the Genius hasn't figured that out yet?"

"Well, if I haven't than how did you?!"

"I have my sources," Cartman said slyly.

Ike stared him down, "You're lying"

With an agitated sigh, Cartman explained, "Look, from my mom ok? She was fucking one the men transporting it." – and then to Ike's speechless stare – " What? The whole town knows she's a whore… did you expect me not to? I'm not that fucking stupid."

"Right, sorry," Ike mumbled.

"The army was transporting it through South Park to Denver. He called to warn her not long after he left. They hadn't realized the vehicle was leaking, I guess. But it did. And whatever chemical it was spilled out – all of it – into South Park. But there wasn't any time….by the time he called they were going to quarantine the entire town in less than 20 minutes."

"So, she just left you?!"

Eric just shrugged, "And so, my plan is to get to the –"

"Wait! Why didn't you go with her?!"

"**My plan**," Eric reiterated angrily, "is to gather up our friends and meet at the school" acting as if he hadn't heard Ike, "I'm sending out texts and dividing everyone into teams to gather supplies and then we'll meet up. We can hold out at the school until this blows over."

Ike sat back, smiling, as he watched Eric. Really watched him. _How did I miss this? It's so obvious_, he thought.

Ike leaned in closer, "So, who are you teamed up with?"

"Kyle. And you," he added quickly.

"Right."

"Well, no shit! I'm already here aren't I?"

"You are. Even though, you could have stayed anywhere else" Ike smirked, "Even though you could have left and avoided this whole fucking disaster."

"Did you hear my plan at all!"

"Why did you stay Cartman?" Ike pressed delightedly.

"Seriously, Ike we don't have time for this. We need to –"

Ike just laughed, "Oh no. No you can't avoid this. If you want me to do what you ask, then answer me. Why did you stay here? Come on," he prodded.

Eric shifted uncomfortably, blushing furiously.

"Oh, I can't wait to tell Kyle…" Ike giggled.

"No!" He yelled, then regained his composure, "I mean, don't say anything, ok?"

"Fine, I won't."

"Great. Then can we –"

"As long as you promise to be completely honest with me," Ike interrupted.

"Sure, whatever," Cartman hastily agreed.

"Through everything. As long as we're under quarantine. Starting now."

"Yes. Fine," Eric quipped.

"Cool. One last thing. I want to hear the whole story about your crush on my brother."

Eric glared at Ike.

"Don't be shy," Ike cooed, "Start at the beginning. Don't skip any of the details!"


End file.
